marked for life
by
Douglas Messerli
Armistead
Johnson and Alexandra Seal (screenplay), Alexandra Seal (director) Wait it
Out / 2018
[19
minutes]
Matt,
a freshman in high school (a rather unbelievable Armistead Johnson, given his
age when this film was made), with the word “Fag” inked on his forehead, is
seeking advice his high school drama teacher (Mark Sam Rosenthal), who,
although he thoroughly sympathizes with the boy—after all, he admits that he
too is gay—suggests that his abuser will not be returning back for the next
year, and advises Matt to simply “wait it out,” advice for a freshman that is
nearly impossible to hear.
Flash to NYC a few years later. Matt, now
dressed in a suit, sits in the office of his quite obnoxious publisher, who
hands him a copy of his newly printed book, Wait It Out, declaring that
it will certainly become one of the best sellers of the year, although she is
simply unable to take any time out to listen to his promotional suggestions.
He
returns home to find his female apartment sharer being fucked by a true
lug-head of a body builder, who, when Matt, wonders what she has eaten that day
(a protein shake, which he scolds her for, tossing out a package of almonds for
her to eat), proclaims of a new diet, the fasting diet, in which, he explains,
you don’t eat anything, and amazingly the fat just melts away.
The reactions from high school students
are phenomenal, so his publisher proclaims, but they don’t actually convert yet
into actual sales; she has hooked him out with interviews to establish who he
now is since he as long-ago bullied high school. Given what we have already
seen, this does not seem to be a very good idea, since Matt has not apparently advanced
in his life excepting by being fixated on his high school bullying.
Even when his roommate, entering a date
site, attempts to hook him up with someone, our awkward hero can’t tolerate any
of the offerings. He might as well be asexual. All he has worked for is utterly
meaningless in his own life.
She finally sets up a blind date with
one of her trainers, Brad (Dave Coleman), a total stud. I would have fallen
immediately into his lap upon seeing him at that age. They do meet up at a
Mexican restaurant whose food doesn’t seem to please either of them. But there
is a rapport, and Max suggests they go off to get a coffee and start everything
over again. He is read to pay, but Brad insists, handing him his credit card,
where suddenly Matt discovers that his fell name is Bradley Stern, the same boy
from his Overlook High School childhood who had so bullied him.
Suddenly Matt grows outraged, suspecting
it is all some kind of sick joke, not even possibly perceiving the possibility
that this man, now gay, has changed, since Matt, in fact, has never grown an
iota, no changed from the moment he was bullied in his freshman year.
To the equally now furious roommate who
has hooked Matt up, Brad argues that he didn’t, in fact, even recognize him,
insisting that in high school was a jerk, but now is a very different person.
She explains where he lunches every noon, and arranges a meeting.
Meanwhile, Matt has even grown paranoid,
imagining that the has met up with him because of reading his book and
recognizing his changed character name.
When finally, Brad comes to apologize, he
can’t even believe that Brad is now gay, and when he asks if the question, a
co-worker—describes him (Matt) as bully—Matt still defending his position as an
“anti-bully.” But since he has never allowed change in his life, he is, in
fact, the new bully in town, insisting upon a traumatic past that he long ago
should have overcome. If we haven’t before, we now become completely unsympathetic
with our “so called” traumatized high school boy who has never grown up. And
the film, accordingly, loses any weak appeal it might have previously pleaded.
I have to admit, I’d long before lost all interest in what is basically a weak
TV comedy routine in the manner of Will and Grace, never one of my
favorites.
Brad attempts to explain that he came out
in college. But doesn’t at all have any meaning for Matt who believes that Brad
obviously does not know the “gay” community, as it he were suddenly their major
spokesperson. He rushes off.
He turns back, adding, “I mean we’re a living
and open community that embraces everyone, but not you?” If there was ever an
example of bigotry, Matt has capsulized it in a few seconds.
This time Matt storms home to discover his
roommate in bed with yet another man, Reynolds (. Somehow he can assimilate the
very worst of heterosexual society, without ever being able to embrace another
gay man.
When he explains what happens, Reynolds
suggests that what Brad did took courage, showed “balls,” but Matt cannot
imagine such a response so self-infatuated he still is with his high school
struggles. By this time, I was simply ready to turn off this ill-conceived
comic confection.
Reynolds finally admits that what Matt
has done has nothing to do with understanding. His reaction, as he points out,
is pure anger. Together both his friend and Matt mock her boyfriend. Who asks a
question: “So you had this guy apologize to you for something that happened
years and years ago, and you had the nerve to not accept the apology?” Reynolds
repeats, as he moves off in disgust, “Who’s the bully now?”
Finally realizing what he has been doing,
Matt reapproaches Brad, apologizing this time for his own behavior. Brad argues
that he accepts it, with one condition, that he go out with him on a second
date.
Sorry, I can’t quite believe Matt’s
confession nor Brad’s continued interest in the fucked-up man. But then, this
glib film advertises itself as a romantic comedy, and like the stick on
treatments of the censored days, it cannot resist going into fully unbelievable
territory. Do I see Matt and Brad as having any future, definitely not. Matt
was a loser in high school and remains one as a pretend adult. Brad has moved
on. If your strategy is simply to “wait it out,” you may find yourself never
again experiencing the world around you.
Los
Angeles, September 14, 2026
Reprinted
from My Queer Cinema blog (September 2026).
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